You And Your Dog Teeth
by cottonfist
Summary: Desperate to find ends and solutions, Hermann wears himself out to exhaustion looking for answers, especially his already lame leg. Being around as his usual working late night companion, it's up to Newt to help take Dr. Gottlieb home. What seemed entirely like a normal night only ends with two scientists realizing there's a lot more between them than they thought.


"Um... hey, I seriously think-"

He stumbles, sharp pain throbbing in his leg; familiar feeling of tugging muscle. Pins and needles, pins and needles.

"I know it's bullshit coming from me, but dude, you really need to-"

He's still not listening. Numbers aren't properly reaching his hypothesis, even with alternating equations and consistent toggling at his own calculations. Maybe if they hadn't left him with only standard sub par resources that only allowed him to attain vague solution over the selective problem analysis, he would be able to equate the necessary numerals he needed- ... is that mustard? There is mustard on his documents. He had not separated himself from these papers for more than at least an hour and there is already food mess imprinted on them.

Breathe in, breathe out; the aching hum in his head would go away soon enough if he followed those stress relieving exercises he'd looked up. Despite shaking in frustration, he settled the papers back into a stack. Anxiousness was managing to raise his awareness toward his grinding appendage joints; again and again with the pins and needles, pins and needles.

"Okay, look-"

Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Back to the board. If he looked at everything a few times more over, surely enough if would be able to find the exponent he maybe had misplaced? The variables that needed switching? He would find it. He would. He's a genius and numbers are his best friend. He knew what he was doing. Of course he did.

Frantically rushing over to grab at the leftover stub of chalk he had left, his right hip clashed with a jutting corner of a lab counter.

"Shit, dude! Would you just hear me out, already?!" Newt cursed, carefully pulling a collapsed Dr. Gottlieb off of the floor.

"I don't need to listen to your babble, Newton," Hermann managed to grunt angrily, attempting to limp away from his colleague, "I'm so close to what I'm looking for, and I don't need-," he began before he inadvertently tripped over his feet and fell over on his face once again, crushing the last piece of chalk he had with him under the weight of his arm. "... Oh, for the love of... bollocks!" he swore under his breath, trying to pick himself back up.

"You've been working for 3 days on 5 hours of sleep on the same shit," Newt emphasized, putting his hands out in offer to prop back up the stubborn scientist, "Sometimes, you just don't get all the answers right away, y'know? Cut yourself some slack-"

"Do not put your hands on me," Hermann grumbled in his own fluster. Using what arm strength he had, he pulled his upper half up on top of one of the nearby counters to support himself, his sturdy leg doing what it could to hold him up. His head was aching, his joints were throbbing; his eyes stung, threatening to close themselves to send him off to rest... no, there was too much to be done. He would show Pentecost his brilliant completed transcribed numerical solutions and show how feeble minded the ridiculous nonsensical ideals of the Kaiju were. He was a genius. He knew what he was doing.

Hermann desperately reached out to a cold coffee sitting atop of more stacks of paper-

"HEY. No!" Newt finally snapped, slapping Gottlieb's hand away before he took the coffee mug and tossed what was left in it over his shoulder, "Are you even listening to me?! Cut that shit out, man! You're killing yourself over here!"

"... What did I tell you about making a mess on my side?" Hermann blurted in a tired huff as he slumped over off of the counter into a weary mess, his arm imitating shaking a cane at Geiszler. Where was that blasted thing, anyhow?

"Two days max. You remember this?" Newt questioned, ignoring Hermann's tiring tantrum, "I'm tellin' ya, after those first two days of all nighters? Your brain turns to absolute shit. I'm not kidding. You're already fried, dude. Like, practically more fried than fair food. It's time to take you home." He spun around to find the exhausted man's cane, which just happened to be propped against his own dissecting table. Okay, he may have used it when Hermann wasn't looking to prod a few things here and there inside what specimen was delivered in that day, but it was still relatively clean.

"... Oh, you arse," Hermann spat, eyeing in disgust the blue guts plastered at the end of his walking stick.

"Can you stand?"

"I can, for the most part," the tired professor grunted in reply, pulling himself together as he attempted to stand, ignoring the throbbing pain throughout his body. His leg was just about to give out again, but by the time he was near collapsing over, Newt had caught him already.

"You'll thank me for this," Newt laughed, slinging one of Hermann's arms over his shoulder to hold him up with his own body. "You're gonna have to pay me back with 10 piece chicken mcnuggets. That's my charging fee."

"I am not going to spend what pocket money I have for what grease garbage you want to consume," Hermann argued in a groan while he still remained leaned against Newt, beginning to limp forward to get their walk to an outside cabbie started.

"Hey, I mean, if you want to lay out on the floor next to Kaiju mess and alieny gutsy stuff, then that's your deal," Newt teased, threatening to crouch and drop Hermann over by his dissecting table.

"NEWTON," Hermann barked in exasperation with what energy he had, clinging his arm tighter over Newt's shoulder, "Don't. You. Dare."

"Mickey D's for breakfast, it is," Newt smirked.

A last eye roll and additional grumble from Dr. Gottlieb, then they were both off to find their way through the cold, quiet corridors, all the way out to the streets.

"Remind me to refuse offer to ever ride in public transport with you again," Hermann moaned, hobbling out of the taxi. Newt quickly followed out after him to make sure he didn't collapse onto the sidewalk after he handed the cab driver what leftover change he had in his jeans, then shut the door behind him.

"C'mon, I really don't smell that bad," Newt insisted, "See this pit stain? Just the sign and odor of a man's day's work," he grinned triumphantly while waving off the leaving taxi.

"To your correction, Newton, you reek atrociously," Hermann pointed, voice becoming more faint from fatigue, "And of all cabs in Hong Kong, we managed to settle in the one with the Chinese commoner that had enough broken English to talk to you endlessly for 20 minutes about the utterly ridiculous idea of Mothra-"

"Yeah, and you smell like daisies," Newt frowned before bouncing back dynamically into conversation, "But aw man, dude, what are the chances of that even happening?! That guy was so cool. When I was paying the fee and stuff, I even gave him the extra breath mint I had in my pocket."

Hermann couldn't hold back a sneer. "You and your Kaiju groupies," he grumbled under his breath. Newt only just stared at him for a moment in disgruntled disbelief.

"I've been trying to help get you home this whole time, y'know, be a nice guy and all that, and there you go just acting like a total ass-crack," Newt muttered, pulling along the weight of the other man toward the apartment complex. "Jesus, what's even your deal?" Hermann was just, at that point, so out of it, and couldn't help but let that insult slip his tongue- and for once, this time, he felt a small pang of guilt for it; but only a little bit. He felt inclined to apologize because of the actual assistance Newt was being in the scenario, but he'd never been one to dare bother make apology. Only ever, especially in his childhood and adolescence, had he ever only retorted defense for himself and his action.

After all, there really was no one else to stand up for him.

As comical as it came out to be, genius professor Gottlieb did not know how to appeal a request for forgiveness; so, as he did best, he defended his reasoning in attempt to ease the situation. "Come now, I only-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up," Newt practically sang to the door, pulling Hermann along quickly as he limped along as fast as he could with his clacking cane. The fast pace only brought back the paining sensation of the pins and needles.

Entering the building and ready to head up the stairwell to Hermann's room, they both paused. Or really, rather, Hermann stood un-moving as he held a pained expression, causing Newt to be immobile as well. "Okay. What now? What are you waiting for?" Newt questioned, stepping a foot up onto the stairs to get them both going.

"Nononono, I can't," Hermann hissed through clenched teeth, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Dude, don't play stupid now. They're stairs. Faster we get up them the faster I can get out of your hair, okay?" Newt sighed, "Sleep-deprivation doesn't make you forget how to walk up stairs."

"I'm in pain, you idiot," Hermann sputtered barely above a whisper, gripping onto Newt's shirt fabric with his free hand that was around his shoulder as if that would somehow relieve any discomfort. "I... I don't think I can make it up."

"... Well, shit," Newt uttered in frustration as they then awkwardly stood in silence for a moment at the bottom of the stairs; Hermann biting at his lower lip, eyes remaining shut as he breathed in and out slowly to keep his focus off of his throbbing leg. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do," Newt finally announced after a moment, "You're gonna hop up on my back, alright? And then I'm gonna get us up to your place."

"I am not lowering myself to a demeanor where I am being 'piggy-back'ed to get back to my own residence," Hermann objected through shallow breaths.

"I can guarantee you that being dragged up the stairs with your leg is gonna hurt a lot more than me carrying you," Geiszler replied, ignoring Hermann's fit as he crouched himself in front of him, whilst while making sure his crippled colleague could stand on his own at least for just a moment. "You gotta jump on, so I can get a good grip on you."

"There is no way your small body could possibly carry me," Hermann huffed, wincing as he tried to resist pressing pressure down onto his lame leg. "Our proportions in comparison-"

"I'm squatting like a bird ready to take a shit for you, and you're the one complaining?!" Newt whined through his own gritted teeth. "You haven't slept in practically 3 days and you still have the energy to make excuses?!"

Hermann finally complied after one last heavy sigh. The overwhelming fatigue threatening to knock him out at any moment was beginning to become unbearable, so he figured he may as well be submissive.

"I said to jump, you bean pole!" Newt heaved, as Hermann awkwardly climbed up onto his back, letting out a stifled whimper when Newt pulled his arms back to prop Hermann's thighs in a balanced position. After what seemed like an eternity of struggle filled with several grunts of 'oh god I really am gonna shit', the two scientists eventually found themselves toppled over on the taller man's couch in his miniature rented apartment.

Newt had actually never been inside Hermann's apartment before; he knew that he had one rented in Hong Kong because he refused to stay in the 'unsightly' barracks the Shatterdome provided for pilots, engineers, and other scientists; but other than that, that was really all he was aware of. He didn't even know where it was, until the instance where he was at it now, because the relation between the two of them was usually riding on tension and insults and that really didn't leave any big opportunities to bring up 'hanging out'. The apartment was small, but in pretty good condition; smelt a bit like fresh rain, and maybe even french vanilla? Bastard probably had fancy candles lit every night.

Hermann released the grip he had over his cane and allowed it to fall to the floor, grimace still holding his expression.

"Uh, you sure you're gonna be okay here by yourself?" Newt asked in genuine concern. "'Cuz, no offense, but you don't look so hot."

"It gets like this at times," Hermann only replied softly, smirking through his own inconvenience. "This perhaps may be at its worst, I'm presuming. I'll get myself checked out soon enough."

"Pfft, yeah, and how are you gonna get there when you can barely stand without looking like someone kicked your balls?" Newt couldn't help but scoff, almost feeling immense pity. They both fell silent, ogling at the ground as if to find an answer.

The weight of the night was pressing in on the two of them; tired, worn eyes and disheveled clothing.

"I could... I mean," Newt began, running his hand through his tousled hair, "... just, well, stay here, y'know? Only for the night. Just to make sure you're okay and all that. Not that I care. Because. I mean. I really don't care. You feel me? I'm just making sure nothing bad happens otherwise Pentecost would-"

"It's fine."

"Yeah, okay, I understa-... did you just say it was 'fine'?" Newt raised a brow, suppressing a bemused smile, "You sure?! 'Kaiju-Groupie'-Geiszler not gonna stink up the place any?"

"I'm too exhausted to deal with your antics," Hermann waved off at him, attempting to signal a hush, as he laid his head back whilst resting his eyes. "As long as you leave things be and keep it down, it won't be a problem on my end."

Newt couldn't help but grin to himself, "Aw jeez, well. That's cool. Thanks, man."

Hermann opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself as he folded his hands over his chest; eyes seemingly entranced back to the carpet. The tired slits of his eyes and distant expression he held made him look so much like a sleepy child. Admittedly, it was endearing.

After what seemed to be much contemplating, he finally spoke. "I, um... it's not very often I say these things, you see, but... I am under... much appreciation for your assistance, Newton." His voice was beginning to sound a little more gruff; a pretty good sign that he was ready to hit the hay. Looking up with his worn out, glazed eyes, he nodded at Newt with a small smile. "Thank you."

Newt felt his face heat up at the flattery, the soft weary 'thank you' ringing in his ears. "Nah, no need to be thanking me or anything. It's no big deal," he chuckled, turning away for a moment to hide how flushed he looked. "You just... uh... um, just get some good rest, okay? I'll get you up in the morning if you're feeling okay and all that."

"I'm going to have to make one last request for you to help take me to my bathroom, if that's quite alright," Hermann laughed tiredly, almost in a mockery of his drawn state.

Of course, Newt obliged with no problem at all, figuring the poor guy just had to take a piss pretty bad before being totally spent. Nothing wrong with that. They went into the small enclosed scruff bathroom, and Hermann limped over from Newt's support to sit on the ledge of the bathtub before he began pulling off socks and stripping layers of clothing.

"WHOA," Newt blurted, impulsively spinning himself around immediately to respect his associate's privacy. "What the hell, dude?! I thought you just had to tinkle or something! Why are you getting naked?!"

"Tired as I may be, Newton, I refuse to allow myself to sleep in my own filth, let alone with the scent of a mechanic's workshop mixed in with a hospital room," Hermann sighed groggily, throwing off his shirt. Newt turned around hesitantly, cautiously peeking at Hermann's pale pink skin. Lanky arms, long bony fingers. Visible ribcage, slender legs. The delicate fragility of his features practically made him a glass frame.

It took a moment for Newt to realize that he was intimately admiring Dr. Gottlieb who happened to only have his briefs on. Fatigue has no shame.

"I need you to help me in," Hermann muttered, finally beginning to fluster in the innocence of his groggy vulnerability. It was under Newt's impression that if he was full awake and aware, Hermann would have been beating him with a metal pole to get out and leave, otherwise he would never dare even take a shoe off in his presence. Shy and insanely uncertain, Newt made his way over, placing a palm against Hermann's shoulder to hold him steady on the ledge of the bathtub as he leaned over to run the hot water. The touch of his skin was soft and fleshy, different from the stone wall he shown as himself on the usual day to day basis in the labs of the Shatterdome.

While waiting for the water to fill the tub, Newt took note of Hermann's nodding off; his head repeatedly falling forward then instantaneously rising back up just to fall forward again. His eyes were closed, long lashes hovering over his cheeks.

Newt began to feel a swelling pain in his chest, and it wasn't something he was exactly familiarized with when it came to feeling it towards people. It's like when you listen to a really good song and it hurts. Or when you think of something nostalgic, or something you miss, or your absolute favorite deli sandwich, and it hurts.

The bath was finally filled, and to keep things from being awkward, Newt tried to continue conversation. While he pulled off Hermann's undergarments, still holding him up with another hand to keep him steady, trying not to stare (because staring at someone's dick while they are practically falling into hibernation is not okay; so dammit, don't stare at the dick, Geiszler, don't you dare do it), he said midst the sloshing sounds of bath water, "Hey, Hermann?"

"Hm?" Gottlieb barely questioned above a quiet hum while Newt lowered him into the tub, carefully.

"It's... it's like, I don't know. I feel weird," Newt laughed awkwardly, rolling up his sleeves, already assuming the job of helping the worn man bathe himself.

Hermann raised a brow, only somewhat peeking an eye open at the tattoo junkie, "That's disgusting, Newton."

"... What?- Oh my god, jesus christ, not like that, you fucking dingus," Newt frowned, face scrunching in disgust while he reached over and poured a dab of some generic shampoo brand that was sitting on a rack. "No, like... I dunno. Why do we have to be so mean to each other all the time. And stuff. I don't really get it."

"It's the way things are," Hermann murmured while Newt massaged the shampoo onto his scalp, "Because you are Dr. Geiszler and I am Dr. Gottlieb." There was a tinge of humor in his voice; a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't just smile like that."

Hermann only hummed in response, amused.

Newt pulled away, clenching his soapy hands. "No. Seriously. It hurts."

"Don't be foolish, Newton."

"I'm not kidding. It feels like my chest is going to burst or something."

"Don't be foolish, Newton."

"I think I'm in love with you."


End file.
